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2013.09.15 - Of Work and Play
It's a lovely Sunday afternoon, with a bit of a cool breeze and warm sunshine. On her day off, Fern typically spends some time in Central Park, but today she didn't stay very long. She got a craving, and that's something that can't always just be shrugged off, sometimes one must answer the call. She's going to splurge, heading over to her favorite place to get something sweet, and on the way she recalls that a dear friend lives very close by. So, as Fern turns from Third Avenue onto E 64th Street, she pulls out her phone and punches in a text to Justin Hammer: Hi! What're you doing? The Sunday afternoon finds the CEO at home, working on an 'extra-curricular' project that he picked up from a questionable source. On the top floor of his home, in the office/workroom he has set up there, he is currently looking over a disassembled Mauser pistol. He has cleaned all the parts and is now looking over what needs to be machined when his phone buzzes on the table. Setting down the barrel of the vintage weapon, he checks the message. The name brings a smile and he types back a quick response. 'Nothing, just sitting at home. What are you up to?' Now leaning against Justin's front gate, Fern whistles softly as she awaits a reply. She's not sure that it'll come, but she'll give it five minutes, at least, before she moves on. The whistle cuts off as her phone goes off, making a sound like knocking on a door, a tone that is assigned to three people. She reads the reply and grins, typing back: 'I'm looking for something sweet to eat and I want company. Come out to play.' Before Justin can get back to what he was working on, his phone buzzes again. He looks at the message and arches a brow. Getting a feeling that Fern is really close by, he gets up from the workbench that lines half the home office and walks through the upper floor of the house. Once across the billiards room he walks out onto the terrace and looks over the stone railing. Sure enough, there's a redhead leaning against his gate. Instead of a text, Fern gets an audible response."Hey, gimme a second and I'll come down and let you in," he calls down. Fern has gone back to whistling, but the voice catches her attention at once, and she turns, looking up to see Justin above. "Hi there!" she calls back. "Come out, we're gonna take a walk. It's a beautiful day!" She sweeps one arm out as she says the words, indicating the street as an example of the day's beauty. She steps closer to the gate, wrapping her hands around the iron bars. "Come play, Justin," is called out invitingly. "I know you're working in there." "Nonsense." The fact he's wearing a T-shirt and not some fancy dress shirt with French cuffs should be some indication that something's going on, but it's not definitive proof. "I'll buzz you through the gate then I'll be down." He disappears back into the house, finding one of the security panels that are located throughout the home and hitting the unlock for the gate. It buzzes, just like it would for any sort of secure door. A few minutes later, Justin is at the front door, pulling it open. He's in an old CU Boulder T-shirt, a pair of slacks, and his hands are dirty from where he was cleaning the gun parts just a few minutes ago. Though he's trying to get rid of that last bit of evidence, as he's still wiping his hands with a ragged old cloth. Fern pushes the gate as the buzzer sounds, slipping in and pushing it shut again, giving it a tug to make sure it's latched. Light steps take her to the door, and she waits for him to show up and open it. Her grin bursts out again as he does, and is there in all his t-shirted glory. "Well look at you," she says, teasing lightly. "You do own something besides three piece suits." Her eyes drop to his hands, brows lifting as she looks back up with something of a self satisfied look on her face. "Nooooo, you weren't working. Fibber." And she steps forward to get her greeting hug. She's dressed casually as well, but she usually is. The cooler weather has brought the return of her black boots, laced up snugly, and she's got a plaid skirt in red and black that hits just above her knees. A red, v-neck t-shirt is covered by a black hoodie that has seen better days but is well loved and comfortable. "As a matter of fact I do," Justin returns to the comment about what he owns. He owns a lot of different kinds of clothes, he just likes wearing suits. They... Suit him. "And no, I wasn't working. Just... Messing around with some stuff." Still fibbing, but close enough. He returns the hug carefully, though this time it's because he's covered with gun cleaner. It has an oddly sweet smell, almost like bananas. Stepping back he motions toward the door. "Come in, let me get cleaned up a bit." He really does look scruffier than usual, almost like he could be your average blue-collar worker, which clashes heavily with the house and high-brow neighborhood. The entry of the house leads into the gallery, which is done in limestone and marble, with a huge mahogany staircase leading upwards to the second floor. It's brightly lit, and done in mostly light colors. While she tries not to be obvious about it, Fern gives Justin a rather thorough once-over, blue eyes sweeping him from tip to toe. "Alright," she allows, "but no suits. We're going somewhere fun and I'm pretty sure they don't allow suits there." An outright fib, but it's just a little white one. While he does look handsome in his suits, Fern is a simple girl and, if she thought about it, she would have to say she likes this scruffy Justin best because he looks so normal. She steps past him as she talks, looking around more openly now, taking in his place. She'd not made it past the door when she was here to drop off cannoli once, and her suspicion that her whole apartment could fit into one room of his place is well founded. "Wow, this is beautiful," she breathes, admiration unmistakable in her tone. Justin pushes the door shut behind him, then it dawns on him. "Hey, how did you know my address?" he asks, having forgotten that Fern had once delivered cannolis to him. He rolls his eyes, not trying to hide it, at the comment about wearing a suit. "Alright, alright, no suit. Stairs or elevator?" He grins at the comment about the house. Praise of any kind, be it toward him, his accomplishments or his property, has always been a driving force. It's one of the reasons he does what he does- he has to impress people. "It's not bad for a town house. Not as big or fancy as some of the estates outside the city, but it's livable." Fern grins, winning this time, looking very pleased indeed. "Stairs." She's used to them, living in a fourth floor walk-up. "Psht," she breathes out, "You should come by my place for dinner sometime. Unless you're claustrophobic. My whole place could probably fit in this entryway." The words come with no envy of sense of hardship, she doesn't need a lot of room, and is paying her own way even if her apartment is in a pretty bad neighborhood. "I like it. It's nice, but not showy." Hopefully he wasn't going for that much of showy or he might be disappointed by Fern's assessment. She moves to follow him, finally getting to, "Oh, I delivered some cannoli for Anita a few weeks ago. No, I'm not stalking you." She can't resist muttering, "Much." The house is, perhaps, a bit understated for someone of Hammer's wealth. He rarely has people over, preferring that his home remain his, so it's not as flashy as one might expect. After all, he grew up middle class. Motioning up the grand staircase, Justin waits for Fern to start up before following her. "Sure you're not," he replies to the stalking comment. "That's why I ran into you by chance at the zoo, and on the ferry, and..." He trails off, smirking. "As big as this city is, and I just happen to keep running into you? Makes me wonder. At least, though, I must say I have a pretty cute stalker." The staircase doubles back, then comes out on a landing across from the elevator and the wet bar. Justin motions toward the living room to the left. "Have a seat, make yourself at home. I'll be back down in a few." The living room is done in richer colors than the entry and gallery, with a large flat-panel television over the fireplace. There are a couple pieces of high-end original artwork on display, as well as varying pieces displayed in a large case along the left wall. The furniture is modern and done in earth tones. She doesn't hurry up the stairs, but Fern doesn't dawdle, either, and her giggle trails back to Justin as she puts an exaggerated wiggle in her rear for a couple steps, "Darn right. Cutest stalker in the tri state area." As she gains the landing, she does a quick step turn, looking at Justin for a second in the movement before she's heading off to the living room. "I wasn't stalking, you were just incredibly lucky. Or... maybe you were stalking me," she counters cannily. She turns again, this time stopping and looking at her host. "Alright. I promise that I'll try not to break anything." With a light flare of skirt, she swings around to step over and look at the display case, purposefully clasping her hands behind her back. "Me? Stalk you?" Justin turns his head downward slightly then looks up at Fern accusingly. "Only slighty." He shakes his head before starting up the next flight of stairs. He knows Fern won't break anything, he trusts her. Which is odd, given he doesn't trust anyone else. Even Jack has to endure occasional outbreaks of paranoia, and he's been Hammer's driver and sometimes PA for years. The display case has a wide variety of specimens in it, some that don't seem to go together. A few of them are obviously expensive, while others just seem like misplaced junk. There are a couple of hand-carved statues crafted from almost glass-clear quartz crystal, a few raw mineral specimens, some antique arrowheads, and a shining dagger with Norse knot work on it just to name a few. About five minutes pass, and Justin comes back down the stairs, having cleaned up a great deal. He's in a polo shirt, clean slacks and has washed up and run a comb through his hair. He looks a lot less scruffy, though he didn't do anything about the slightly rougher than usual 5-o'clock shadow. "Alright, so where are we off to?" Fern laughs at his parting comment, delighted when Justin banters back, and her attention goes back to the case. With the care that has been taken to display these items, whether they look pricey or priceless, Fern imagines that these are meaningful pieces, or at least the ones that look to be junk must be. Those are the ones that get closer study, as she imagines their worth to the billionaire Hammer has become. So lost is she in her contemplation that the time passes without notice, and she's surprised when his voice comes from behind her again. "That was fast," she comments at the looks at Justin, smiling as she notes he's put a collared shirt on, but at least not his suit. It's a compromise she can easily live with. "It's a surprise. But it's not far." She would bet that Serendipity 3 isn't unknown to Justin, with his penchant for sweets, and that he'll figure it out soon enough. Or, if he's never been there, it'll be a delightful surprise for him. With his hands in his pockets, Justin walks into the living room. "Like I said on the boat," he comments in a fake haughty tone that doesn't really sound all that faked when he does it, "It shouldn't take someone two hours to get ready to go somewhere." He shoots Fern a smirk. "A surprise, huh? Should I be worried?" He has a couple ideas of where it might be, since she young woman had mentioned sweets, but he doesn't voice them. But to Fern, of course, it does sound faked, because she has such faith in the 'nice' Justin Hammer that she knows. "Oh hush you," she says shortly, her grin taking any sting out of the admonition. And at once her eyes widen, one hand fluttering up to press to her heart, "Justin, I am wounded... just wounded that you think for a second that you have anything to worry about." She is the picture of wide eyed innocence, and even manages not to laugh. "Why haven't you landed a role in a movie yet?" Justin asks, shaking his head lightly at the 'wounded' Fern. "Lead on to adventure," he says, bowing lightly and holding his right arm out toward the direction of the staircase. As they start back toward the front entrance of the house, he brings up the subject of acting again. "So you never did tell me how that audition you had went. How did it go?" He's assuming that she didn't get the part, since she never mentioned it again, and it only occurs to him after he has said something that it could be a touchy subject. Oops. Fern bounces on ahead of Justin, her hair swinging as she traipses lightly down to the first floor. She hadn't mentioned it because the response she got was discouraging, but since Justin asks she answers honestly. "They said they decided to go 'in a different direction'," complete with air quotes, "but that they might have something else for me in a few weeks." There's a note of dejection in her tone, but she brightens again spying Jack waiting to open the door for them to exit the premises. "Hey Jack, it's good to see you!" she chirps at him. Justin frowns lightly. "I'm sorry to hear that," he replies when Fern explains that the audition didn't pan out. "Hopefully they'll call you back and you can get in. If not, I'll break their kneecaps for ya." Having that slight New York accent and his penchant for suits, the whole mob thing fits as well as the high-strung CEO image. When Justin spies Jack, who was likely in the staff room downstairs, he asks, "Lemme guess, Fern, you'd rather walk than drive?" She had mentioned what a nice day it was, so it only seems logical that she wants to set out on foot. Jack smiles and nods politely to the young lady. "Likewise, Miss Fiddlehead," he responds as he moves to open the outer door for the pair. There's a warm smile for Jack, and she whispers when she goes past him, "Fern." She doesn't figure he'll break the formality, at least when Justin is around, but she's comfortable giving him that option. She's certainly not above Justin's right hand man, being a waitress herself. "Bingo!" is Justin's answer, and Fern pauses at the gate to let Justin reach past and open it. "I've been thinking," she says, a bit hesitantly, "About the acting thing." Jack gives another smile to Fern. She's correct in guessing he won't break the formality, though he does appreciate the gesture. Justin chuckles as he unlocks the gate and holds it open for the young woman. "I figured as much," he comments. Once they're both through the gate he pulls it shut behind them, and waits for Fern to take the lead. After all, she knows where they're going and he doesn't. The more sombre tone gets a concerned look from the man. "What have you been thinking about it?" he asks, slipping his hands in his pants pockets. Fern actually takes a few steps before she turns, reaching to tuck her arm with Justin's and walk beside him down the sidewalk. Just when he thought he'd be able to walk on his own! "Well, I haven't had a real acting job in..." there's a pause, as she doesn't want to say out loud exactly how long it's been, and she finishes the thought with, "a long time. So maybe... it's not what I'm supposed to be doing." Her words are thoughtful, sharing something she's not talked about with anyone else although it's been on her mind since she got the callback over a week ago. She leads them up 64th as they talk, toward Third. Justin submits himself to being arm candy for Fern. He's gotten pretty used to it, especially after spending a couple days with her out on the yacht. And honestly, he doesn't mind it. After all, they're dating, right? Or something? He listens, nodding lightly. "Well, you're going to do a calendar with Millie, aren't you?" he asks, "So, maybe that will help boost you up a bit? She was telling me about it at the Expo. Seems like it could help, could really get your name out there." He makes note of where they are, this is still his neighborhood so he's far from lost, but he's keeping tabs nonetheless. There's a soft sigh and Fern shrugs lightly, her arm moving against Justin's with the gesture, "I guess it could. But I kinda think sometimes that she's just so nice..." Again she falters before finishing, "Well, I mean really, me in photographs with her? She's so gorgeous and blond and everything." If Millie wasn't already seeing someone, Fern wouldn't be surprised if Justin made a play for her. She's all that and a bag of chips. Justin had seriously considered going after Millie at the Expo, until he figured out she was with Shaw. That put a giant halt on that idea. "Hey now," he glances to the redhead, "You ain't half bad yourself. Don't sell yourself short, Fern. I mean, look at all the guys you got chasing you. I saw how Warren looked at you, and Leo too. And myself included in that." He pauses for a moment. "But if you don't think acting is where you're supposed to be, then maybe it isn't. You thought about anything else? There's still a job for you as my PA. I'm sure Jack wouldn't mind moving to just being my driver again." A handwave dismisses the remarks about guys 'chasing' her, and Fern rolls her eyes. "I'm not half bad? Gee, thanks," Fern says wryly. "And, ok, maybe you have a point about Warren. But Leo?" She doesn't voice that she has had occasion to wonder if it's not just the fact that she's in a skirt that intrigues Leo, he's so brash and impulsive. "And yourself?" she questions, then breathes out with another, "Pffft." It's never occurred to her that Justin might have any interest. For one thing, he's loaded. For another, he's got to be at least thirty. She just hasn't entertained the thought. "Well, now that you mention it.... I had thought a little bit about something else." She looks up to him from the corner of her eye. Turning the corner, Fern leads them south-ish on Third Avenue, the street numbers descending as they pass. "No, that isn't what I-" Justin starts to retort but Fern continues and he falls silent. He looks a little crestfallen at her reaction when he mentions himself in the equation, but shrugs it off. Guess she wasn't serious when he brough up the dating thing. Yet another shining example of why, despite his wealth, Justin is still single. He rolls with the slight subject change. "What else are you entertaining?" he asks, glancing toward the redhead before looking back to where they're headed. Preoccupied with her thoughts, Fern doesn't catch the effect her dismissal has for a second on Justin, and she chews on her lip lightly as they get to East 60th, where she stops them at the light to cross over Third and go up 60th. "Well, I'm not sure if I should talk about it yet. You ever get the feeling that talking about things sometimes jinxes them?" People stream past them, crossing against the light, and when the sign changes to walk Fern starts them across, not even paying attention to the other walkers. She's completely oblivious sometimes. Luckily Justin is paying attention, and he keeps them from running into anyone even though he's still not entirely sure where they're headed. The options have narrowed significantly, though. He chuckles. "Superstitious?" he asks, glancing to his companion before looking up again. "I have to admit, I've felt the same way. Not sure if keeping quiet really helps any, but sometimes it can't hurt to be prepared for anything." He doesn't press for details and seems to have completely recovered from the slight blow earlier. "Well, yeah, a little," Fern admits with a soft laugh. "Who in showbiz isn't?" That comment shows where her desire still lies, even if she's trying to be sensible about it and stop dreaming so much. It would be nice, after all, to live in a better neighborhood. Maybe in an apartment with two actual rooms. As they walk down the block they get closer to a group of people, a line actually, and she finally asks, "How do you feel about frozen hot chocolate?" "I feel it's an oxymoron," Justin replies with a grin of humor. He knows where they're at, he's eaten there several times, though it's been a while. "But oxymoron or not, it's delicious." He looks at the line and thinks for a moment. Chances are he could toss his name out and get them in ahead of the line, but this was Fern's idea, and it feels like doing so would be somehow wrong. The sliver of gentlemanly nature he has is actually able to nearly equal the pretentious majority of his nature. "Man, they're busy today." Fern leans sideways, loosening her grip on Justin's arm as she does, but not letting him go. "Excuse me," she says politely to the two older women in front of them, "do you know how long the wait is." One of the women smiles back, answering, "About two hours." Fern sobers immediately, her face taking a thoughtful cast. "One moment, sir," Fern says, her tone different as she does finally release Justin, to dig into the bag that hangs at her hip. It's a fairly good sized bag, and in addition to her whistle and mace, it holds several items that might come in handy. She pulls out a small notebook and a pen, along with a little leather pouch from which she draws a stack of business card sized cards. She shuffles through them, selecting one and putting the rest away, and says softly to Justin, "Wait here a second." With a pat to his arm she turns, moving to the door and slipping inside. In a moment she's back, smiling pleasantly at Justin as she approaches. "Mister Hammer, they do have your reservation ready, if you'd like to come with me." Upon hearing the estimated wait time, Justin about decides to pull his pompous ass routine and get them in ahead of the line. Fern's reaction causes him to pause, then he simply watches as she digs through her bag. He tries to catch what she's up to, without leaning over too far and being blatantly obvious about it. Before he can ask, she's off and gone. He watches where she's gone, and when she returns saying that the reservation is ready, he can't hide the blink. What did she do? Did she just go up there and drop his name? The surprise turns quickly into a cocky grin, and he steps around the line. "Why thank you Miss Fiddlehead," he replies, "Lead the way." She might not be dressed like a typical PA, but having the right information, a business card and actually being friendly and polite carry a lot more clout than an outfit. Fern doesn't hook her arm with Justin's, but she does take his elbow lightly, as if guiding him. As they walk she leans in and hisses, "Your name is like gold, Justin." Why yes, she did drop it, thank you very much. As they reach the door Fern stops, but lightly urges Justin to continue in, and she follows a step behind. As soon as they're through the door, there's a hostess there, "Mister Hammer, what a pleasure to see you again. We have your favorite table available." Well, Fern's favorite table, but who's counting? "If you'd like to come this way, I'll take you right upstairs." The favorite table is in a quiet part of the cafe, beneath a softly glowing Tiffany lamp. So Justin got to throw his name around, without throwing his name around. He smiles broadly as Fern lets him in on what she did, and he falls into the act quickly. After all, it's how he normally behaves, so it takes pretty much no effort. Smiling at the hostess, he moves to follow her upstairs. "Excellent, I'm glad it's open." He's actually more polite than he would normally be, given Fern's presence, but there's still a pretty cocky air to his mannerisms. He takes a seat at the indicated table, intentionally not pulling Fern's chair out for her or any of the other niceties he may or may not remember. After all, she's his 'PA' at the moment and he wouldn't do that for an employee. Once the hostess is gone, Justin lets some of the attitude fall away. "Slick trick there. If you don't watch it, I'm gonna put you on the payroll whether you like it or not." Fern pulls her own chair out, thanking the hostess, adding, "I think we'll be ready to order in just a few minutes." It's not quite a request, but it's said gently enough as a statement that it almost sounds like it. Her attention turns to Justin as the hostess goes to find the waitress, and Fern grins at Justin. "It's kind of just playing a part. But, I'm no Pepper Potts." For one thing, she doesn't have the wardrobe. She looks down, toward the menu but not actually at it, then up again. "That's what I was thinking about. Kinda," she says quickly. Justin arches a brow, ignoring the menu for the moment. "What? Getting on my payroll?" he asks, not quite following what she's saying. He's mentioned to her several times about being his PA, or at least getting her a better paying job somewhere in his company, but the young waitress has never taken him up on the offer. He has many guesses as to why. Fern nods and shrugs at the same time. "I mean... maybe." It's a huge decision, and she's still hedging it. "Would you be able to deal with a PA who goes to an audition occasionally?" She doesn't bother with the menu either, knowing she's getting a frozen hot chocolate, the only question being whether it be for one, or a double for them to share. Justin can't help but smile. "Oh, absolutely," he says quickly. "Trust me, I'm not Tony Stark, I don't need a full-time babysitter." Well, that could be debated, but... "I'd be willing to work with your schedule as much as possible. And if you're not wanting to be my PA specifically, I could easily find you just about any position you wanted within my company." He genuinely wants to help Fern out, though this pretty much pus the breaks on any sort of 'dating' they may have been doing. It's a mixed blessing. "Alright," Fern says, making up her mind. "I'll work with you on a trial basis, and we'll see if I can do the job effectively." She can keep evening shifts at Anita Bella for a little while, just in case. It takes a little effort to stop her mind from going off track immediately, thinking of what she might need to do and know to do this job, but she does stop it, pushing that aside for now. "But right now, we're going to enjoy our snack and I'll start working for you later." Justin nods in agreement. "Sounds fair. I'll have you work with Jack a couple days a week, as your schedule allows, to start getting a feel for it." Poor Jack, who's been working for Hammer for some 5 years now, has been pulling double duty as a driver and PA, as well as a host of other odd jobs that Justin has tasked him too. He rarely ever gets a chance to get home, and splitting the duties is likely going to be a very welcome change. "So, in celebration of your new employment, how about frozen hot chocolates, on me?" Fern shakes her head decisively, "Nope, this one is on me. I brought you here, and pretty soon you're going to be feeding me on a pretty regular basis," she teases. "It's the least I can do." This may be the worst idea in the world, or it might turn out to be a brilliant move for them both. They'll find out over the course of the next few weeks. Category:Log